


Man says to the universe, I exist!

by emilyenrose



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyenrose/pseuds/emilyenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I know, says the universe. However, that has not created in me any sense of obligation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man says to the universe, I exist!

Why won't they _react_?

Earth is easy. Staggeringly easy, insanely easy. The Master isn't such a fool as to think humans are just that weak a target - he may not have the Doctor's obsession with the species but he did once attend the same history classes, centuries upon centuries ago. Humans are remarkably capable creatures, handicapped in the grand scheme of things only by their short lifespans and their correspondingly limited time sense. Their surprising resilience will take them all the way to the end of the universe, the long way round - more, the Master is happy to admit, than his own species ever managed. The Master's conquest of Earth was based on humans, or on things that used to be humans. His conquest of this galaxy - and then the next, and the next - will be likewise based on Earth. Humans make good armies.

What they don't make is a good audience.

It's frustrating. The more the Master does, the less he gets. It doesn't make a difference if it's the Jones family's sullen hatred, or the freak Captain's spitting laughter, or even sweet Lucy's lovely smile. Something, _something_ is retreating away from him, growing steadily more indifferent.

The Master tries hitting Lucy, and the black eye spoils her looks, but the way she treats him stays exactly the same. She still laughs and dances with him and then fades into the background when he doesn't want her. The Master tries killing the freak - does it several times, actually, once he realises how much fun it is - and the only change is that the laugh becomes a smirk, as if even mocking the Master is a waste of the good Captain's neverending time. The Master wakes up one morning to a report that Martha Jones has been seen on a backstreet in Tokyo, and he quotes the report to the Joneses before he gives the order to turn Japan into a nuclear wasteland. They only glare with dull red anger and then go back to work.

The Master doesn't understand this human kind of hatred, the hatred that doesn't do anything, the hatred that closes ranks against him. It's never been the way he hates. His hatred gets hotter, not colder, perpetually defying the laws of the universe, a star burning backwards through time.

And the Doctor, like his beloved humans, sits in his cage and doesn't react.

The Master could _kill_ him for that.

"I could kill you," he comments to the wizened little thing in the ridiculous suit. (Such an excellent suit!) "I don't see why I shouldn't, actually. It's getting really boring around here, having someone new would liven things up. Don't you think?"

The Doctor says nothing.

"There'd be someone new, of course. How many regenerations do you even have left? Two? Three? You'd have to regenerate. Imagine dying and leaving me here all alone." The Master grins. "The last of my species. I might go mad from the grief. You wouldn't do that to me, would you, Doctor? Just imagine poor little me, all by myself with all these innocent defenseless humans and nothing to distract me."

_Nothing._ Just those ridiculous blinking eyes, not so very different from the eyes the Master remembers from those interminable schooldays.

"I could kill you," he repeats, and the fantasy starts to take hold of him. He really _could_. It wouldn't change much but it might at least change the Doctor. Even the Doctor couldn't fail to react to being killed. (The freak doesn't... but that's the freak.) "What would you go for next time? Blond? I liked you blond. I bet you'd be young again. I wouldn't even age you up, not right away. And I'd get you something else to wear, you'd like that, wouldn't you? It's amazing, really, the way your fashion sense changes every time and yet still always manages to be awful."

The Doctor isn't even looking at him. Isn't _looking!_

"I hate you," the Master snaps, and does not bother to analyse why he's said it. "I _will_ kill you. But later. _Last._ You can watch all your humans die first and then I'll kill you." That gets him a look, at least. "Every last one, I promise," the Master goes on, inspired by the idea suddenly, the thudding rhythm in his head suddenly growing louder. "First Martha, when I find her. She's good, isn't she? She was the only one who survived Japan." He grins horribly. "First Martha, right here in this room, right in front of you. Then all the others, as soon as I can afford to get rid of them. Once I have another species for my army I won't need them anymore. And I'll kill Lucy last of all. That'll be in this room too. While you watch."

The Doctor looks at him solemnly.

"I don't know what to do about the freak. Perhaps I'll leave him in the vacuum somewhere. Drop him down a black hole, send him through a Rift - a parallel universe is the next best thing to dead, don't you think?" That one gets a flinch, for some reason; the Master, delighted, makes a mental note. "And then I'll kill you," he finishes. "Then I'll kill you, Doctor. And you'll still come back to be my prisoner again. We belong together, don't we?"

"I forgive you," says the Doctor after a moment, his voice cracked and papery.

The Master snarls. The drums howl.


End file.
